The Kingslayer's Rose
by nicoleamari
Summary: Margaery Tyrell's little sister finds herself plunged into the Game of Thrones after she is married off to the Kingslayer, a union that began in lust but will it end in love or will the impending war drive the two apart forever?
1. i Rosalie

Cersei Lannister, for all her riches and grace, did not paint as pretty a picture as Rosalie Tyrell had expected, though she was wiser than to speak her thoughts as the queen mother smiled coldly in Rosalie's direction. Margaery, Rosalie's older sister, intercepted the look, squeezing Rosalie's hand in her own briefly before the two of them averted their eyes to just above where the king and queen mother sat. It had been a mere few moons since the battle of Blackwater, a battle Rosalie had been indulged with information about by the queen mother's younger brother, the Imp Tyrion Lannister and now she was here, in the lion's den. Rosalie praised the Seven that it was not her having to marry the little prick of a king astride the Iron Throne.

There were murmurs, though none too loud for terror of him hearing, that if one found the Iron Throne uncomfortable, that they were clearly not meant to rule. Rosalie did not voice this, however, knowing better than to even mention such blasphemy to her sister. Margaery's attention was now on the king, simpering sweetness and their grandmother shared a brief look with Rosalie, Olenna gagging conspicuously and Rosalie hid a smile. She was without doubt her grandmother's favourite for she resembled neither her mother nor father and Olenna seemed to be exceedingly proud of that. When she was born, a mere sixteen summers ago, she did not open her eyes for quite a time and her grandmother had hoped she would not look at all like her siblings, who resembled their mother something fierce. However, the eyes that had eventually opened were like those of her brother, the infamous topaz colour. And though Rosalie had the same high cheekbones as her sister, Loras and Rosalie also shared golden hair but in terms of similarities, that was quite it whilst Willas and Garlan she resembled little, something she was glad for.

Rosalie's eyes darted over those present in the throneroom, Tommen and Myrcella Baratheon and to her curiosity, Jaime Lannister hovered close to the Iron Throne, she recalled he was indeed the King's Guard but upon closer inspection, she adhered the rumours to be true, her eyes narrowing in on the golden hand. Jaime Lannister was true to the stories, one of the most beautiful men she had ever laid eyes, sandy blonde hair, blue eyes and that stoic set to his mouth, gods she could just about have melted on the spot. There was no lie in the whispers that had reached her about him, he was the one of any sane woman's dreams. Her gaze shifted slightly, aware that she was staring at him and then Lord Tywin Lannister entered her line of sight, who to her concern was studying her with quite ferocious a gaze and Rosalie shied back a little, she was the less confident of the sisters and preferred her sister to take the attention off of her. When they had been younger, both girls had been called fair by all, though Margaery now used such beauty to seduce whilst Rosalie's attempts to hide any beauty she could were usually in vain.

Tomorrow, Margaery would be married to the blonde child smirking down at them and Rosalie wanted to hate the situation but for fear the anguish would be present on her features, she kept her features smooth. She curtseyed briefly at the lions, before she and Margaery headed away, their brother strolling ahead with their grandmother, a conversation Rosalie knew she would prefer not to be part of until a voice called her back. Her shoulders stiffened and she swung, pushing all emotion from her face as Tyrion Lannister hurried after her on short legs.

My Lady Rosalie, could I ask you come with me please? Lord Tywin wishes to speak with you." Rosalie made brief eye contact with Margaery before she nodded at Tyrion, smiling faintly as he turned to head in another direction, towards a part of the castle Rosalie was not familiar with and so she stuck close to Lord Tyrion as he led the way through several lamplit hallways and into a study of sorts, decorated so heavily in red and gold it was easy enough for Rosalie to note this must be the Lannister wing and though she knew she would not be harmed, Rosalie still stiffened slightly, fear coating the inside of her belly. Her fingers skimmed to her waist, where concealed her grandmother's dagger, though she knew it would do no good, it was no more than a penknife in comparison to the swords that hung at the belts of lords but at least she felt safer knowing she was armed.

Entering the study, she was aware of four other people already there, Tywin Lannister, Jaime Lannister, the queen mother and to Rosalie's surprise, her father. Mace Tyrell looked out of place among the abundance of lions and though Rosalie was standing quite near the Imp, who she didn't mind the presence of, she still felt quite overwhelmed. Internally, she berated herself, weakness was something the lions preyed upon and if she could convince them she was the frightened lamb her sister was not. Rosalie was the gentler of the two, the more well liked. People were drawn to her more so than they were drawn to Margaery, the only issue it seemed was on occasion Rosalie's barbed tongue got the better of her, here is King's Landing she was careful but in her own land she was free with her words. She'd even heard people say she was the thorns where her sister was the rose though it bothered Rosalie not, she would not compete with Margaery and the two were both Tyrells, they were both roses in the end even if Rosalie's thorns were more obvious than Margaery's.

Bowing courteously, Rosalie remembered her manners before any of the Lannisters could take her hesitation as a sign of offence and moved her hands to lace in front of her, a meek pose she usually adopted when she was in trouble. Mace nodded slightly, making her aware that whatever this was was serious.

"Rosalie Tyrell, youngest daughter of Mace Tyrell and Alerie Hightower. Unmarried and unpromised. Sixteen summers and I presume you have bled?" It was Cersei who spoke and Rosalie met the queen mother's eyes carefully before she nodded.

"Yes queen mother, that is correct." Seven hells, why on earth were they asking if she had bled yet. If they married her to another Lannister brat she would slit her own throat with the dagger in her clothes. She glanced around the room slowly, taking in those present. Tywin Lannister was watching her with that hawk like gaze he had, his eyes seemed to look straight through her and it slightly discomforted Rosalie, though she met his gaze as evenly as she dared. His eyes narrowed slightly and she adjusted her gaze, slightly fearful of being disrespectful and found her eyes meeting the queen mother's. Cersei Lannister was a coldhearted, conniving bitch, to say the least and it took all of Rosalie's might not to sneer at her. She loathed the queen mother, she was a vile, cruel excuse of a woman but Rosalie needed to play nice in the capital, so she lifted the corners of her mouth slightly, hoping the queen mother saw it as a shy smile. Cersei was clearly in a frightful mood as she simply stared boredly away, her eyes flashing briefly to Jaime Lannister, who Rosalie's gaze settled on next. He was the one she disliked least, leaving out Tyrion, who Rosalie got along with very well and she almost felt sorry for him. She had heard the story of his hand from Tyrion, though she knew better than to question the Kingslayer himself and she pitied him, he had lost a lot that day, the loyalty of his sister included. Tyrion had failed to mention that but Rosalie was perceptive enough to notice how close the two of them had seemed in Petyr Baelish's eyes though she knew better than to trust him.

"Will someone tell us why she's here, I fear we'll all implode with lust for knowledge if you don't inform us of the proposition." Tywin Lannister shot his daughter a cold look that Cersei avoided, Tywin standing from his chair. He was tall, taller than Rosalie realised though Jaime still towered over everyone in the room, especially Rosalie, who had only taken in her father in one way, her height.

"Lady Rosalie, I was discussing with my son earlier that in light of recent events, he will be needing to settle down, rule Casterly Rock and provide me with heirs that aren't bound to the capital and then you walked into the throneroom. I haven't seen Jaime look at a woman like he does a mirror before and you would be a first. You are not betrothed and you are beautiful and young, sister to the would-be queen Margaery and your family served the throne well in the battle of Blackwater. I believe that makes you worthy to marry my son, Jaime." The room went dead silent, Rosalie barely daring to breathe as she stared in confusion at Tywin Lannister, who had settled back into his chair. Rosalie made quick eye contact with her father, avoiding both the eyes of Cersei and Jaime for fear of what she would read in them and then she looked down slightly, her wide eyed gaze meeting Tyrion's. Her eyes remained on the hem of the dark purple dress she was wearing as Cersei made several undignified sounds before finally, she engaged her father, her voice rising.

"Father, you clearly are losing your mind in your age, Jaime is the King's Guard, therefore he is unable to and-" Tywin raised a hand and Cersei's tongue slowed, Rosalie swept her eyes up, pushing a confident front as she met Tywin's gaze squarely, trying not to let the confusion shine through her gaze. Jaime too had been silent throughout the exchange and she dared not look at him, but then he stood, drawing all attention in the room to him and finally they made eye contact. Gold met blue and then Cersei strode past Rosalie, sneering at her as she past and Rosalie flinched without breaking eye contact with Jaime, watching the emotion flare in his gaze as he watched his sister leave and watched his bride step back from her anger with the smallest, smuggest smile touching her lips.


	2. ii Jaime

Jaime Lannister had to admit, his father's declaration of marriage had blindsided him. He wasn't upset about nearly as much as he should have been, guessing that he had still yet to come to terms with the matter of his betrothal, as Cersei stormed from the room, knocking her shoulder sharply with Rosalie's and he watched as the girl flinched, though her mouth also curved upwards, one of those smiles Cersei had perfected, a tiny, smug smirk and he felt her eyes leave him, watching as she took a small step forward so she could speak with her father.

He studied her as she stood in front of him. She was slender, neatly built with a slim waist and long tousled bronze-gold curls and wide golden eyes that were shrewd, much like her sister's though Margaery didn't manage to contain her emotion as much as Rosalie did, the younger Tyrell was a lot like his own father, able to manipulate their facial expressions into a void, a mask and Jaime, watching Rosalie closely, the way she held herself too was unusual, like a bird preparing to take flight almost, resting just the smallest on her toes. The words about her were true, she was the most beautiful of the Tyrells and no doubt one of the fairest in the Seven Kingdoms. And he was to marry her, produce heirs with her and they would keep each other happy. She would keep him busy, he knew that much. He saw how men looked at her, how women looked at her and how she saw it too and she knew, though she didn't seem to be bothered. Even Cersei was threatened by her, he had seen that much on her face, there wasn't much Cersei could hide from Jaime.

Tyrion had since left the room after his sister and they had all lapsed into silence again, Rosalie frowning at her feet, Mace looked like he'd rather be anywhere else and Tywin looked bored.

"So it's settled then. After your Margaery marries Joffrey, the two of you can say your vows and then retire to Casterly Rock. Hopefully soon I'll be seeing proof of yet another grandchild, preferably one who doesn't complain as much as my oldest grandchild." Tywin smirked and despite himself, Jaime chuckled, drawing Rosalie's attention as he spotted her barely concealing a smile, before he considered what Tywin's real meaning was. He was urging them to get busy. Jaime went to lace his hands and stiffened, the cold of the gold surprising him slightly, it was taking him awhile to get used to. Rosalie had seen the movement and her eyebrows wrinkled slightly though she said nothing, as seemed to be a familiar pattern with her before Tywin clapped his hands, beginning to speak with Mace about wedding matters and Jaime leaned on his sword, wondering how he would embarrass himself if he retrieved his mother's ring from his father's draw, a task he was unsure he would perfect with the golden hand. He opened the draw with his left hand, placing the ring in the palm of the golden hand before he maneuvered back around, hand outstretched.

"Here." He said quietly, embarrassment leaking into his tone though she did not acknowledge it, instead staring in a sort of fascination at the ring. Cersei had long since coveted it, it was set with rubies in true Lannister fashion and though it was quite simple, he wanted to ensure she was wearing something that said she belonged to him, a warning to the rest of the men in King's Landing if he may.

"Thank you. You're very kind." Rosalie said, dipping her head slightly at him as he slid the ring up the fourth finger on her left hand. She had very delicate hands he noticed, slim fingers and almond shaped fingernails and he sighed in relief as the ring seemed to fit, though it may have been a little snug she said nothing.

"You're very brave. I would have locked myself away and refused to have anyone look at me if I lost a hand. Yet you seem to radiate confidence concerning it. You don't need to pretend around me though. I don't mind." He studied her for a moment before he allowed his shoulders to sink a little bit, the slightest smirk sliding across his features and he advanced on her slightly, noting how she shrunk just a little, he intimidated her.

"You're very bold little one, though you rarely show it when you're around pleasant company. Like a little kitten, one second you're cowering then your claws are out. It's quite an amusing show for those who are watching." Her eyes were gold slits and this close to her, he could smell the perfume clinging to her skin, it wasn't roses as he assumed she would reek of, Olenna and Margaery both had but she smelled like jasmine, the kind that was usually only found in Dorne. Clearly she had close relations with Dorne to have even a bottle of the stuff, it was insanely expensive to purchase outside of Dorne. Something caught the light in her hand and Jaime saw the dagger then, she had slipped it from her belt without him seeing and though she clearly had no idea how to hold it, a weapon was a weapon. He scoffed, laughing quietly and stepped back a bit, catching the fist curled around the dagger and he lifted it, examining her grip.

"You're holding it wrong kitten." He teased and saw the flush then as it crept across her cheeks, he wondered if it was to the nickname of that she had been caught holding her weapon wrong. He rotated her wrist a little, moving her fingers to fasten correctly around the hilt and his mind slid to something else she could do with her hands and suddenly he was glad for the armour that concealed him. Instead he lowered mouth so it was close enough to hers that he could have licked her lips if he wanted to, pushing her back against the wall as he made a shoving movement with the dagger in her hand.

"Stab them in the stomach, it makes for a more painful death as all the bile burns at the flesh." He said, a mocking tone slipping into his voice and he watched her eyes narrow. She was nervous and he had made her flustered, he could hear how fast she was breathing and this amused him as he took her face in the palm of his hand then, very gently touching her skin and he smirked as she leaned into his warmth slightly before he struck. Catching her lips in his own, he kissed her with a fierceness that surprised even him. Rosalie, however, was not about to be a maiden in distress, as she forced him back off of her, her eyes wild and before he could react further, she kissed him quickly on the mouth, a soft kiss that made him yearn for her lips, before she whirled, storming from the room, the door slamming loudly behind her retreating footsteps and Jaime laughed for the first time in a while. His beautiful, fiery bride was going to be a handful. And he was looking forward to it.

* * *

It was a fair bit later in the evening when he was replaced from guard duty by another, Jaime decided to go to visit Rosalie briefly, he had no clear objective but he had left her alone for a good part of the day and though he, nor Cersei, were overwhelmingly pleased by the new development, Tywin held strong. Margaery had been startled to hear the news, her eyes flying to her sisters, who had merely shaken her head once. She was upset about it, he realised, though she hadn't shown it much whenever she knew he was around though he had heard her crying with her sister in one of the gardens. Margaery had comforted her, saying it would be okay and that everyone was scared when they were betrothed. It hadn't crossed Jaime's mind that it might be hard for her, leaving her family behind, being separated from those she trusted inherently. At least he would be going to a familiar place, she was going into the unknown. He had also heard Margaery briefly mention another name, Robb Stark, the boy king who had escaped the Frey's wrath a moon prior, though Catelyn Stark had been killed as had Robb's pregnant wife, it seemed Robb and Rosalie were familiar with each other, why, he was determined to find out as he assumed from Margaery's words that the two were betrothed but given Rosalie's sly nature, he could not rest the idea that she could be spying for the boy king.

He had since detoured down to where Tyrion mentioned the Tyrells were staying with a bunch of flowers he had pulled from the garden and locating her chambers, he knocked twice.

"Coming!" He heard her call, though he heard nothing move until the door swung open. Rosalie's face was flushed and she gripped the door handle even tighter when she saw him, his first thought was that she had been drinking. The smell of something Tyrion was fond of caught his nostrils by surprise, it was strong and sweet and over her shoulder, he could see a bottle of it on the table, beside it sat Margaery who was giggling quietly to herself, a goblet of wine in her fingers.

"Jaime Lannister. Come to torment me." Rosalie drawled, her voice husky and Jaime found it quite attractive, though he did not voice said thoughts, instead smiling and brandishing the flowers.

"I thought I might make it up to you, considering you weren't exactly pleased with my actions earlier, though I wouldn't mind making a habit of it." He teased and to his surprise, Rosalie laughed, taking the flowers in her left hand and leaning forward, still hanging onto the door.

"My knight in shining armour." She sang and he scoffed though it was lighthearted.

"Does my knight want a kiss for his troubles?" Rosalie asked, her voice becoming husky again as she looked him up and down and Jaime felt himself near blush. Before he could react, she pecked his cheek fondly before moving to close the door. Halfway through the action however, she stiffened, she was mid placing the flowers in a vase and she had noticed something on the table beside the vase. Plucking it in her fingers, she held it out to him gingerly and his eyes narrowed in on the necklace, wondering why she was holding it out to him. He noted there was a tiny golden rose charm on it, as well as what appeared to be a lion and he caught her eyes curiously.

"Thank you, Rosalie. You didn't have to." She tutted, looping the necklace around his neck before clasping it shut, an action he couldn't have performed himself and then she pressed a more heated kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Now all of King's Landing will know you're mine. Even your sister." She giggled at that last thing and Jaime froze briefly as she vanished back behind the door, his left hand snaking up to touch the rose and lion charms gently, the lion on closer inspection had sapphires for eyes and he wondered how in seven hells she had managed to curate such an item at such short notice but then, Tyrells were known for being a little more on the odd side, so instead, he slipped the chain beneath his chainmail and headed off to go find Bronn.


	3. iii Rosalie

Rosalie woke the next morning with a slightly heavy head, though she was more focussed on how her stomach rolled when she first stood, groaning quietly and Margaery who was sprawled across the bed to her left, moaned, rolling over and clutching her head.

"What in seven hells was in that flask?" Rosalie hissed out, scrunching her eyes as the sunlight glanced off of the sill into them and the cold of the ring on her finger startled her, she had forgotten Jaime's gift. It was a slim band, for a Lannister's ring, simple yet beautiful and for once, no roses in sight. She didn't hate roses, but her house's sigil got old pretty quickly, when you'd had 16 summers of it decorating everything you owned. Margaery just groaned instead of replying, flinging covers over her head and several handmaidens entered the room, giggling a little at the two girls who looked a tad worse for wear as they began to set up a bathtub for Rosalie, who sank into it when the water was still cold, submerging herself long enough to startle to handmaidens. They of course, would not have known that Rosalie spent much of her time away from Highgarden, instead choosing to spend her days down the Ocean Road and even down to Old Town, swimming with Loras in the deep bays and rivers. A thought occurred to her, something she needed to ask the handmaidens.

"Would I be allowed in the bathing pools?" She asked and though they all exchanged brief looks, the resounding answer seemed to be yes, so Rosalie tightened a robe around her waist and padded barefoot down to the pools. They were empty when she reached them, steam sifting out of the three bigger pools though the smallest was bubbling and when she dipped her foot into it, it was hot, unlike the others which were merely warm. Rosalie shed her robes and the sheer nightgown she had put on at some time during the previous night and pulled out the few stray pins that still clasped her locks before she stepped forward, completely submerging herself in the water and then she reemerged on the surface, skin flushed and her nipples peaking as they came into contact with the contrasting cold air. Then she lay back, allowing the water to swill over her as she relaxed into the warmth.

Jaime found her nearly an hour later, head tilted back, hair sprawled in wet dark gold curls and water lapping over her entire body. She had no clothes on, though he noted they were folded close enough for her to reach if she needed and though he felt the urge to move them back so that he could see her in all her glory as she got out from the tub, the humiliation any other woman would feel would be wasted, Southern women were notably blaise about nudity, it was not as much of an issue as it was in the capital and it was warm enough that it needn't bother them at all.

Instead, he discarded his armour as quietly as he dared before he walked to stand behind her head, cupping his hands and pouring the water that remained in his palms over her head. She did not start, nor was she surprised by his presence, her ears were close enough to the ground that she had probably been aware of his presence for sometime, his footsteps would have echoed and reached her eventually. The bathhouse was also notably usually quite echoey, especially with the pools, that reflected sound as they did light. She opened her eyes, liquid topaz fixing on him briefly and a soft smile, the first real one he had received from her, drifted across her features, lighting her entire face up and he thought then that she was truly the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms, and even more so than any who resided across the narrow sea. A light flush decorated her cheekbones, which he noted on close inspection were fleck with tiny freckles, reminding him of the sky at night over Casterly Rock. There was too much light in King's Landing to see all of the stars but if Jaime looked hard enough, he could recognise constellations that his mother had taught to him when he was little. Now he could find constellations in her freckles as they seemed to be just as numerous as the stars themselves.

"Are you going to join me Ser Jaime or will you persist in staring at me?" There was a teasing note to Rosalie's voice and Jaime smirked, more to himself than for her benefit and began to slip from his clothes. Once he was bare, he entered the pool, slowly enough to give her a good show but quickly enough that he noticed the sudden change in temperature upon entering the pool. Certain appendages felt the full brunt of that effect and if it were any other woman, she would have been blushing though Rosalie watched him with only a faint amount of interest staining her gaze. She simply turned her head upwards again and loosened her shoulders in a quick ripple of flesh, one that sent a small wave of water in Jaime's direction. She was closer to him than he had first realised, from above there seemed to be significantly more room within the pool but now that he was in it, he could have reached out and brushed the wet hair back off of her forehead. He refrained though, allowing himself to relax as she did and soon he found he would have liked to sleep in the pool, but his body warned him against, for surely he would drown if he succumbed to slumber.

The lightest touch on his chest and Jaime was suddenly very alert. His eyes opened slowly and met with Rosalie's, she had moved closer and was now treading water as she investigated the scars slicing through his flesh. She then moved over slightly, her fingers encircling his golden hand and Jaime tried not to wince as she inspected it, as gently as she could it seemed.

"It's an insult. That hand, though gold, will never ever be as your true hand was. However made it wanted you to remember that." Rosalie's tone was barbed and Jaime was surprised by the anger in her voice, she had not been slighted but he wondered if she was angry for him, in that way some people reacted to injustices that they could prevent.

"It makes me feel more whole than I do without it." Jaime said, his voice quiet and he saw sorrow flash through Rosalie's eyes, a pain that she kept from her features but it was displayed clearly in her gaze. Her fingers grasped the hand again, moving her own so that she could lace their fingers together briefly before she moved backwards, back to her spot on the opposite side of the pool. He didn't realise what she was doing until she turned her back to him, the muscles cording her arms seizing slightly as she pushed herself out of the water. He was given a clear view of her back, ass and several other parts of her that he had previously not been particularly intimate with and he wondered he she felt his gaze scorching her body. She didn't comment on it if she did, instead padding over to where her clothes were piled and with a flash of a smile over her shoulder, she dressed.

"I'll see you at the feast tonight Ser Jaime." She called, her voice a song as she slipped out of the bathhouse and then Jaime was left in silence.


	4. iv Jaime

The feast she spoke of was one in preparation for tomorrow's ceremony, an event that Jaime realised may explain as to why Lady Margaery was drinking with Rosalie, Jaime acknowledged that Joffrey was a brat and could tell that both the young Tyrell women disliked him. Well, most people did in fact though Jaime preferred to ignore the opinions of the people of King's Landing. He wouldn't miss it when he returned to Casterly Rock, he would miss his siblings and father but he looked forward to being back home and he was looking forward to being in Rosalie's company.

She was sitting not far from him, at Margaery's side at the highest table and the two were laughing about something, ignoring a sour looking Cersei who eyed the two of them with blue slits and a bored Joffrey, Tyrion and Sansa were too far away for him to taunt. Jaime looked over towards Rosalie again, her eyes were on Sansa as she spoke with Margaery, probably about her plans and what she had accomplished earlier that day. Sansa had been quietly pleased with the knowledge that her eldest brother had escaped and though Joffrey had had some things to say about it, Sansa was no longer alone.

That day, Joffrey had decided to humiliate Sansa, yet again and unfortunately for Sansa, Margaery was nowhere to be found, so Joffrey hadn't needed to keep up the act, instead he had ordered Meryn Trant to relieve her of her clothing, to mock her in front of the court. Jaime had winced, glancing at Cersei who looked amused and he had resigned himself to staring out of the court, most of who looked shocked. Then the doors had banged open and Joffrey had sat up rather quickly. Jaime too looked towards the door and his eyes narrowed in on Rosalie, dressed in yet another purple garment with her hair twisted back and her golden eyes dangerous.

"Lay another hand on her Trant and it'll be the last time you have hands." Rosalie had snarled and the knight jeered, yanking Sansa's sleeve down further, and she advanced quickly, the knife flashing and he roared in pain, going to backhand her but she dodged, slamming a booted foot down on his foot before her guards raised their weapons. Trant shot a look towards Joffrey who looked outraged and had stood from his throne but Rosalie was clearly not done here. Cersei's eyes were slits as she watched the girl slide her knife away, moving to Sansa's side and nodding at one of her guards, who pulled the cloak from his shoulders. Sansa gripped Rosalie's hands, knuckles white and face drenched with fear.

"Sansa Stark is under my house's protection, a slight to her is an insult to my entire family and you wouldn't want that would you, your Grace?" The mocking was clear in Rosalie's voice as she maneuvered Sansa behind her and Jaime wondered how he had managed to be the one to marry a woman with such a gracious heart. Cersei glanced towards Joffrey who had not reacted to the venom coating Rosalie's words and Jaime wondered if it was fear. The Tyrell sisters were close and if she so much as breathed a word to Margaery, there could be jeopardy in the budding relationship between the two. Joffrey was right to hesitate, Rosalie's threat clung to her very voice. Cersei clearly did not like the insult and made a sound beside Joffrey, one which Rosalie heard very clearly.

"Did you have something to say, queen mother? I didn't quite hear you." Rosalie snarled out, fingers still gripping Sansa's tightly but her face was impassive. Tywin clucked and shared a smile with Jaime, Cersei had met more than her match in the youngest Tyrell and she was beginning to realise just how aware the girl was. Jaime nodded at Rosalie as she and her party moved out, Rosalie shooting him a smile that Cersei caught but Rosalie had already swept herself and Sansa out before Cersei could meet Jaime's eyes, fury decorating hers though Jaime averted his eyes soon after they met.

Sansa Stark barely left Rosalie's side the rest of the day, Jaime had noted. The two were clearly very friendly and they did a lot of laughing. Sansa had changed dresses, one of which Jaime wondered if it belonged to Rosalie as it was her typical style and colour, that dark purple with gold lining. He was preparing to head to the feast when he was surprised by a knock on his door. Cersei never knocked and his father never came to his chambers nor would his brother have so when he opened it, he wasn't too surprised to see Rosalie standing outside his door, colour decorating her high cheekbones and he wondered why when he noted Sansa giggling as she hurried in the opposite direction quickly.

"My Lady." He said, smiling gently and she smiled back widely, eyes darting over his face.

"I came to ask you something and I know you may not agree because of the queen mother's opinion but I wanted to know, if I was to take Sansa Stark on as a handmaiden, would she be able to come back to Casterly Rock when we leave?" Jaime paused. He knew why she was asking, this was her way of protecting her friend and while he knew Cersei would be resistant, Jaime could see no fault in the idea and he knew neither would Tywin, the remaining Starks would not know she had been moved and she would be safer up there especially if it came to bartering with her life. Joffrey was more likely to hurt her and the North seeking revenge on them for that was quite a definite occurrence. But Rosalie would bring her out of that, away from Cersei's vengeance and Joffrey's cruel heart.

"If it would make you happy." He said quietly and her face lit up like a child's might when you promised them something sweet if they ate all their dinner.

Now she sat with a smug smile twisting her lips as she laughed with Margaery, seemingly well aware of the queen mother's furious gaze but it was too late for Cersei, Tywin had already made Joffrey permit the action and Rosalie had won and she was well and truly letting Cersei know that much. Jaime hid his smile as his soon-to-be wife glanced up, her eyes finding his and she smiled prettily, wiggling her fingers at him. She had a particular fondness of cherry cakes and held one out to him, raising her eyebrows in a dare for him to decline her offer. Shaking his head, Jaime moved to her side, stealing the cherry cake from her fingers and she laughed quietly, Margaery watching them fondly as Jaime dipped his head to kiss the corner of her mouth in a show of ownership. Popping the cherry cake into his mouth, Jaime strode back to his place, well aware of Cersei's gaze burning into his back. He reminded himself of her laying with others whilst he fought to get back to her and with a swift smirk, met her gaze evenly. Her fingers grew white on her goblet of wine and Jaime removed his eyes before she broke the stem in her grip and he caught Rosalie's eye, winking teasingly.


	5. v Rosalie

The Purple Wedding was to be a typically gaudy affair though the ceremony was quite basic and played more to Cersei and Joffrey's tastes whilst the feast afterwards was a completely different story and Rosalie was unsurprised with the amount of effort that had gone in her elder sister's wedding. She could only hope her own wedding wouldn't be this much of a spectacle, a view she found she shared with Jaime and both of them shuddered at the idea of such an extravagant occasion. Sansa remained practically glued to Rosalie's side, she was telling Rosalie of the cold North and of her siblings. She missed them, dearly and Rosalie pitied her. It would be hard to be without your family and she was lucky to be nearly permanently surrounded by her own.

Speaking of, her grandmother was mysteriously absent as Rosalie sat beside Sansa and the Imp, Jaime was still required to keep watch over the ceremony as he wasn't being retired from his King's guard duties just yet though Joffrey had pressed that he be allowed to spend time in his day with his future wife, something Cersei had pulled a face about but Jaime cared little about his twin's opinion as Rosalie slipped through the crowds of people towards him, her face bright with happiness. Her father was speaking quietly with Margaery whilst Olenna and Tywin were in deep conversation, Tywin barely flicking Jaime a glance as the two of them strolled past. Rosalie, taking his flesh hand and golden hand in her own, tugged him with her as she moved backwards through the crowd, most of those crowding around practically fell out of her way as she pulled him through, eventually dropping one of her hands so she could turn around and lead him through the crowd more easily and he found it almost a struggle to keep her pace, she moved very swiftly and despite what she lacked in height and build, she made up for in furious energy.

He saw her then, the one Rosalie was making for and a smile tugged briefly over his features, of course. Rosalie probably wanted him to thank her properly and she was probably wanting to thank her as well it seemed. Brienne smiled faintly at Jaime though it widened significantly as she took in Rosalie, who hugged her tightly, a gesture that clearly surprised the usually aloof Brienne.

"Lady Brienne! I'm so glad to run into you, I've been meaning to come and find you to thank you for bringing Jaime back to us, I have heard a great deal of good things about you and we'd like to extend an invite to you, an invitation to our wedding ceremony in a few days time." Jaime blinked. The ceremony was to be small, mostly just family and if Rosalie got her way, as he knew she would, Sansa would be attending and now it seemed she wanted Brienne there. He wondered her reasoning though he knew better than to question her now. Brienne, for her part, looked equally shocked and delighted, a warm smile spreading across her mouth and Jaime realised she was truly quite pleased with the invitation, she clearly hadn't expected such kindness from the little Tyrell, who looked up at Brienne with something similar to admiration in her golden gaze. There was also a shrewdness there, one that slightly unnerved Jaime with it's intensity, a calculating element to her entire demeanor and it prompted Jaime to avert his eyes, why he was unsure but it made him a little uncomfortable, the two women were obviously sharing a moment and he was more or less intruding.

The sound of Cersei's shrill voice commanding attention be turned towards the king made the trio lapse into silence, Jaime nodding briefly at Brienne as Sansa came to Rosalie's side, the two intertwining their fingers as Rosalie sent Brienne a wide smile before they moved away, the crowd parting to allow the Tyrell and Stark to move forward as Joffrey and Margaery cut the pie, both of them smiling and laughing though Rosalie noted that Margaery's smile was a bit stretched and when she glanced in Rosalie's direction, catching her eyes, Rosalie lifted the corner of her mouth briefly.

Sisterly solidarity. She would not be part of the crowd screaming about the bedding ceremony though she would not have been able to anyhow, Rosalie had to go about speaking with Lord Tywin about wedding arrangements and if both Brienne and Sansa would be allowed to attend, she would be very put out if Sansa could not and Brienne she owed Jaime's life, so in her eyes, it was only apt for the tall woman to be in attendance.

It was then that Cersei's voice yet again broke through Rosalie's thought train as Joffrey choked, coughing fiercely as he drained the glass of wine, to no avail. Rosalie's grip on Sansa's hand tightened as Margaery's confused eyes found her own again and Rosalie felt the crowd around her swirl as Jaime shoved through the people, intent on reaching the golden haired boy. Rosalie felt shock pool in her belly, she had thought there would be people other than the queen mother and her twin to take care of Joffrey but-

Rosalie stopped, freezing in her place as Jaime and Joffrey's faces lined up and despite Joffrey's face currently turning purple, there was a resemblance, too much just to put down to Jaime being Cersei's twin. There was striking similarity and Rosalie felt her stomach drop out. Ned Stark had not lied. His words were not false. Unbelieveable. Hatred boiling in her veins, Rosalie, with Sansa in tow, strode to her sister's side, burying her face briefly in her sister's shoulder. Margaery was quivering slightly, whether it was shock or relief, Rosalie did not know. She was just glad that whatever fate Joffrey had just suffered through, had not been extended to her elder sister, whatever is was.

Glancing around, Rosalie's eyes narrowed in her grandmother then, Olenna was not looking at the king or her granddaughters, she had risen but her eyes remained on Cersei, a cold finality in her gaze and then Rosalie knew.

Poison.

(sorry for the delay, going through a bad breakup and thus did not really feel like writing about love xo)


	6. vi Jaime

The days following the wedding were like hurricanes condensed into a matter of hours. The death of the king had apparently had less of an affect on the residents of King's Landing but the effect on those dwelling in the Red Keep was a whole other magnitude. Cersei was seething, both with anger and sadness, accusing Tyrion Lannister of being responsible for his death and Rosalie was glad that Sansa was by her side, out of Cersei's line of sight and thus away from her wrath.

Rosalie had not spoken much with her grandmother, nor with her father and sister, Margaery had been swept away into mourning and into fresh plans, marriage to the next in line, Tommen and Rosalie was glad her older sister wasn't going to be cast aside by the capitol. Margaery wanted to be queen and queen it seemed she would become. Rosalie never understood it. That desire that Margaery, the need to be in control. Even with Renly, she was unhappy, not only because he had little sexual interest but because he wasn't the true King. But now, with the promise of the next King being hers, the boy king with his bright eyes and gentle demeanour and Rosalie pitied him. He was but a pawn in the Tyrell game now and though he was sweet, he was no longer her concern. Her primary concern, was getting herself and Sansa away from King's Landing, Jaime was more than welcome to join them but Rosalie knew of something that was about to happen and she knew better than remaining in King's Landing lying in wait for the storm to blow over. No, another storm was brewing, one that had extended across the Narrow Sea and from what Robb Stark had told her, carried with it a vengeance enough to level King's Landing.

Daenerys Stormborn, the last Targaryen, had set her gaze on King's Landing, set her vengeance on Cersei Lannister and allied herself with Robb Stark, who had joined her across the Narrow Sea. The last raven he'd sent to her had had a slightly twisted foot but the note was in a familiar code. Two ravens and a crown. Two to flee King's Landing. Sansa and Rosalie, before the real war began. There were also whispers in the North, some things unsettling, murmurs of wights and whitewalkers, armies of the dead and wildlings allied with those on the wall. Casterly Rock looked very appealing to Rosalie right now and even Sansa had voiced her unrest at the tales being brought to them by Varys' spies, he had taken a liking to Rosalie as well as being faced with the formidable force that was her grandmother, he knew than to go against either, as Rosalie was becoming quite resourceful, she was beginning to realise that when the war reached their shores, there was little chance that King's Landing would survive, Daenerys had dragons, three terrible beasts of fire and blood and terror and Rosalie was looking forward to meeting them. All her life she had been infatuated with tales of dragons and the sister wives of one of the Targaryens that had each ridden dragons. Because of that, tales she'd been told as a child, Rosalie knew that when the time came, she would ally herself with the dragon queen. They were of similar ages she knew and yet everything Rosalie had accomplished in her life paled in comparison to what Daenerys Targaryen had done.

She hadn't been speaking with Jaime after what she had witnessed at the Purple Wedding. He had attempted to speak to her, on many different occasions but she managed to otherwise avoid him like he had a sickness. In her eyes, he did. Incestuous relationships, though prevalent throughout many of the great houses over the ages, revolted her to the degree that even thinking about committing such acts made her stomach turn with disgust. She had thought Jaime to be better and though there clearly had been something between the two Lannister twins, enough to create not one but three children, she hadn't noticed it until now, until it was blatantly obvious. Sansa knew she was troubled, and had helped in keeping Jaime Lannister out of Rosalie's way as much as she could, though it was dangerous for her to be so bold, she cared little about the consequences when the person who provided her such happiness and protection was so forlorn. Tommen helped, though he was probably not aware of how helpful he was truly being. He awarded Rosalie one of his kittens, a sleek silver furred she-cat that Rosalie named Dusk, as her fur glinted that pale grey that came just as the sun set when sunlight glanced off of her pelt.

That was how Jaime eventually stumbled upon Sansa and Rosalie as they were outside playing with Dusk as the sun began to sink in the sky, the stars coming up. Rosalie was on her back, staring up at the clouds drifting listlessly through the early evening sky, bringing with them the smell of rain, rain to wash the stench of shit from King's Landing, even for just a night. Sansa was toying with the kitten, letting it chase one of her ribbons as she chuckled faintly, neither had noticed the approaching Kingslayer and given Rosalie's guards were nowhere to be found, it was lucky it was that had found them. But as usual, he had underestimated how aware Rosalie was of her surroundings as she didn't flinch when gravel crunched beneath his foot as Sansa did. The two girls eyed with, neither looking very friendly and he noticed that Sansa reached for Rosalie's unfurling fingers as Rosalie moved to sit, her spine straightening and her usually relaxed posture was a lot less loose than usual, her shoulders tight with tension and her knuckles were faintly white, the skin stretched tightly over the back of her hands. Her eyes were narrowed, just a touch but there was none of her usual warmth in her gaze. Something had ticked, something he was unsure of had solidified in her mind and she was waiting, waiting to spit her venom at him.

"Rosalie. Lady Stark." He acknowledged both of them, Sansa having the courtesy to smile faintly though Rosalie's gaze did not waver.

"What do you want Kingslayer?" Her tone was clipped and he nearly flinched at the use of Kingslayer, he couldn't recall if she'd called him it prior to today but there was a subsequent amount of hatred bubbling within her tone, enough that he noticed it plainly.

"I wished to make sure you were doing alright, your sister has noticed you have been quite absent at meals and such and had a word with me about-" Rosalie's eyes narrowed, fury brightening her gaze and for a moment, her eyes blazed a darker gold. How dare Margaery speak with Jaime about such private matters without her consent, she had never outed Margaery in any form and here was her sister, going behind her back and unsettling the delicate balance.

"Margaery has no right." Rosalie spit, her eyes burning though to her distress she could feel tears welling in the backs of her eyes, burning to emerge and her lip wobbled as she spoke. How could she? How dare he bring it up, as though it was something they could speak about, it was not his affair but yet, he was looking at her, pity shining in his pale eyes. She didn't want his pity. She wanted his respect and him to fear her anger but yet he was trying to soften her to him.

"She is your sister and I am to be your husband, it is within my right." His tone was gentle and for a brief moment, she wanted nothing more than to fly into his arms and let him make her feel better. But Rosalie had too much pride. Nodding at Sansa, the Stark girl stood, with a swish of skirts and she was gone. Jaime sat then, folding himself quite awkwardly in beside her with their knees brushing. Neither spoke, for the longest of times and Jaime wondered if she wanted to speak but couldn't bring herself to, as was his dilemma but for now, he was content in silence.


	7. vii Rosalie (nsfw)

The wedding and thus joining of Houses Tyrell and Lannister was in typical Rosalie fashion, quiet, simple and not the big hullabaloo Margaery always required. Rosalie was still rather snarled up at Margaery's actions, thus even Jaime was able to detect the frost radiating from the Tyrell. Her beauty was unparalleled, she was an exquisite goddess in comparison to the rest of the world he knew. However, she was quite sharp in nature and it was often too clear in the way she spoke but it did not deter him, he knew that at the moment she was struggling with her own mind and her opinions, of him, of her sister and of her future. Jaime thought that she was the strongest woman he had come to know, she had a strength within her that she didn't always wield as a weapon like Cersei did, but she kept it beneath the surface, just enough that one knew it was there, but she was choosing to keep it contained.

""In the sight of the Seven, I hereby see you these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say your vows," the celebrant had a faint smile on his lips, possibly detecting the hostility radiating off of the bride though he was wiser than to make anything of it.

"Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am hers, and she is mine, from this day, until the end of my days," Jaime kept his voice steady, his eyes never leaving Rosalie's though he knew she loathed eye contact for such lengths, it made her nervous and he could tell it was getting to her when she fidgeted, her eyes flicking sideways out of habit and the softest of smiles broke his face.

"Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am his, and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days," her voice was soft, layered with a gentleness that contrasted the ice in her eyes. Jaime leaned forward, encroaching on her, something he recalled intimidated her before he lowered his face to press his lips to her own. Hers were almost softer than he recalled and tasted faintly sweet, though the kiss that sealed their union was anything but sweet. If Jaime was fire, Rosalie was ice and something in their kiss defied all laws in the meeting of fire and ice. And when he opened his eyes, meeting hers with a finality, he saw that same ice in her gaze but now, it seemed to burn with a triumphant fire and for a moment, he wondered what exactly he was getting himself into.

A raven in a flurry of feathers hurtled into the sky, rising high above King's Landing as the bells tolled, a scrap of paper tied to its leg, a rose seal burned into it and the smallest drawing of a three-headed dragon emblazoned next to the signature at the bottom of the letter. The Great War was coming and Rosalie Lannister was not going to become a pawn to her new house.

The owner of the raven sat still in her seat, watching with a rare smile on her tight lips, raising a goblet as Rosalie caught her eye, she had seen the bird and she knew what this meant. She knew her place and she knew what would come of that letter, a letter she had written as Sansa braided her hair in sweet movements. Her grandmother winked at her before, resuming her usual pinched look, turned her attention back to Tywin Lannister, who's usually beady eyes were unfocused as Olenna poured him another goblet of her favourite wine. Wine which she had scarcely touched but Tywin seemed to be enjoying, Dornish wine often had that effect on men unused to its sweetness. They drank quickly and deeply and slept even deeper. Olenna was still undecided, she needed Tywin's influence on Cersei and Tommen but she thirsted for his demise, without him, Rosalie would be in power at Casterly Rock and Jaime, the poor fool, would be in her clutches by then, eating from her hand as well as from her cunt.

Olenna knew Rosalie well, more so than anyone else. Rosalie craved affection, she wanted love, superficial or true, it didn't matter. She also craved freedom. She always had, she desired freedom and the power that came with it more so than Olenna had initially thought possible. However, Rosalie had a just streak that no matter how much Olenna had tried, she couldn't comb it out and so it had begun to consume Rosalie. The letter was addressed to the dragon queen, promised allegiance to the point of compliance. Rosalie had always adored the stories of the Targaryens, Aegon and his sisters, Rhaenys and Visenya, who she'd vowed to name her children after and she'd always pitied the Targaryen children that had been scattered across the Narrow Sea. She acknowledged the terrible fate of Elia and thus had a hatred for the Mountain that was only paralleled by Oberyn Martell's. Rosalie was better at hiding it though. Oberyn was too emotional and Olenna knew it would not do him any good.

Margaery fussed over Rosalie before the bedding ceremony, which would be a private one due to Cersei Lannister's strong disdain towards the usual ceremony, Olenna didn't have to wonder why. Rosalie seemed slightly stiffer than usual, she held her head higher than normal and there was an unusual coldness in her eyes, Olenna knew it was something she typically hid but now it was on full display, unconcerned with who saw it. She was readying herself for the war to come, Olenna knew her favourite granddaughter. There was no fear in her, not for herself, only apprehension.

"We will see each other again Grandmother," Rosalie murmured into Olenna's hair, her slim figure wrapped up tightly within Olenna's arms.

"That I do not doubt, in this life and the next. May your womb and plans be fruitful and your mind ever sharp, I trust in your judgment and in your decisions but once you're at the top of the wheel, remember it is quite the fall to the bottom and many men have died trying to do as you want to," Olenna tried to keep her cautioning light, she knew Rosalie to be intelligent, to say the least, but she was also trusting. The dragon queen was practically a foreigner, bringing foreign ways and men if she managed to get to Westeros and Olenna did not want her granddaughter to be led astray because she allowed herself to be taken in by the dragon queen. Olenna remembered the Mad King better than most and the thought of her granddaughter being seduced by his daughter worried her.

"Valar Morghulis," Rosalie whispered, her words snatched by the wind almost before Olenna caught them, her eyes narrowing slightly but she nodded, pursing her lips. She would not be able to change Rosalie's mind, no one could though maybe Sansa Stark had a chance. Rosalie turned away from her grandmother, a smile fading fast as her handmaidens flanked her, Sansa's red hair vibrant at the front of the group and then they were gone, vanishing into the darkness.

Rosalie almost wished she could vanish into the shadows. Nudity, she was fine with. Fucking, she was also fine with. But she was not okay with the way Jaime looked at her, with an expression both of desire and warmth, the kind of warmth one would expect from a dear one. Not a one handed Kingslayer who fucked his sister. Fury surged through her, lighting her bones on fire and she swallowed the anger, pushing it down until it felt as though it was quenched but she knew it wasn't, not truly. It burned deep within her, a fire she couldn't put out.

"Are you going to fuck me like you fucked Cersei? Fuck a little blonde babe into me?" Rosalie knew she could provoke him, his features she could read like any book and she was angry. She felt slighted and a part of her wondered if they'd fucked whilst she'd known him, whilst they'd been engaged.

Jaime's shoulders were tensed as she strode toward him, naked as the day her mother birthed her. Her tits were heaving, her nipples beginning to harden in the cool of the night air. The sight of her made his mouth water but for a long moment, he did not reply to her accusations.

"We haven't fucked since I found out we were to be wed if that's where you're going with this," She sighed, an almost inaudible sigh of relief and he noticed that she'd relaxed some more, the tension in her shoulder almost evaporating. He wanted her, more than he'd ever wanted anything and now she stood right in front of him, ripe for the plucking but this was her game, not his. Unless she wanted him to take control, that would explain her baiting him and her posture, the openness of the way she stood, legs parted and shoulders loose.

"Come here," It was a test, would she be compliant or a petulant child? When she moved to stand between his legs, a smile whispered onto his mouth. His golden hand brushed up her leg as he used his flesh fingers to briefly tweak one of her nipples, watching a shudder run down her frame. She was much more responsive than Cersei, her cunt warm and wet, an invitation for his cock, which had begun to hard in his breeches. He trailed his fingers down her stomach, briefly wondering how it would look swollen with his offspring before he pushed a flesh finger into her twat. The sound she made when he did that made his stomach tighten and his cock harden further. Her folds were soft and wet to the touch, he could easily slide several fingers into her and the noises she elicited as he did told him just how good it felt.

She had begun to unbutton his shirt when his fingers pinched around her clit, sharply enough that he felt her jump slightly, an almost squeal spilling from her open mouth. He dragged the golden hand against her twat before he pressed it to her lips, pushing it into her open mouth as she began to suck the golden fingers clean. He began to strip further, yanking his breeches down before he slowed, eyes meeting hers with one of his fingers still hooked in her twat.

"If something hurts, you need to tell me, but otherwise, I'm in control," His voice was a low growl, the lust surging through his veins was hot and the way she moaned at his words, he knew that she was enjoying what he was doing to her. She nodded, her eyelashes fluttering as he pushed another finger into her hot twat before he stepped back, pulling his shirt off.

"Kneel," He rumbled and she bared her teeth in a brief grin before she collapsed to her knees, taking his cock in her hands as she sat up. His flesh fingers laced in her hair, he gave her a moment to adjust before he began to plough into her mouth and throat. She spluttered around his cock a few times but the saliva only aided in it going further the next time as he pounded into her throat. He released her hair as precum began to coat the tip of his cock, mixing with her saliva as it did. He pushed her back onto the bed, smirking at the slightly dazed expression on her face as she wriggled up the bed. Jaime loomed over her for a moment, asserting his dominance in the motion before he pressed his mouth to hers in a fierce kiss. Then in a swift movement, he pushed into her warm twat, the soft squelching sound that accompanied that motion made him groan aloud before he began to pound in rhythm to her erratic breathing.

When he finally came, she had come twice already, both times with an expression so exquisite that he wished it painted and framed. His golden finger; still wet from her, he slipped into his mouth to suck off as he pulled the fur up and over them as she nestled into his side tiredly. Her hair was a state but she was too exhausted from the combined effort of the day and the evening's antics and he knew she would be asleep soon, her eyes kept closing and she seemed content to not move at all. He wrapped an arm around her, comforted that she smelled like him now and that his seed hopefully coated her womb, a legitimate heir was all that he desired apart from Rosalie, who had begun to drift off in his arms. For a while, Jaime lay awake, listening to her breathing evening out before he too began to drift off, the warmth of happiness like a blanket around him.


End file.
